I Just Telepathically Did The Entire Crew?
by Chuckney
Summary: Kirk has important information that needs to be briefed to his senior crew and convinces Spock to do it via projected mindmeld. Something goes wrong and images of Kirk in sexual situations are projected: extreme awkwardness ensues, but not on Kirk's part.


A/N: Written for a prompt on the Star Trek kink meme: "Kirk has important information that needs to be briefed to his senior crew. Spock volunteers to doing it by a projected mindmeld. Something goes wrong and images of Kirk in sexual situations are projected - Kirk being sucked, sucking, fucked, fucking, caressing... Most of the crew have either come or are hard." Um, yeah. This was a challenge but I enjoyed it. Hope you do too. :)

Pairings: Kirk/Everyone

Rating: Hard R for language and sex

Length: 1024

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, I don't make any money from this.

Summary: See prompt.

***

"Captain, I predict that due to the length, complexity and additional background information of this operation, coupled with your incoherent self-expression and predilection for time-wasting tangents, this mission briefing will take approximately three hours."

A chorus of assorted groans and complaints rose from the officers assembled on bridge.

"But - but that'll be _dull_." Jim replied in dread, as if a period of harmless inactivity was the very worst fate that could befall him.

"Tedious, perhaps, but necessary. Proceed." Spock's face looked the same as it ever did, as if it were carved out of stone, except right now it was faintly smug stone.

"I've got no time for tedious." declared Kirk. "Spock, if you access the relevant stuff through a mind meld, you can broadcast it to everyone here, can't you?"

"Theoretically, yes, Captain, but that would be a frivolous and highly –"

"Decided, then."

Spock breathed out disapprovingly through his nose, but reasoned there would be no serious ramifications: indeed, avoiding a lengthly speech might boost moral and productivity of the senior team. Conceding gracefully, he reached out a hand and gently positioned his fingers spread across the side of Kirk's face. He concentrated, reaching out for the Captain's mind and as Jim allowed him in Spock slipped into the roar of images, sounds, feelings whirling through and sought out the relevant memories.

"Concentrate, please."

Kirk's mind coloured with momentary annoyance at being told what to do, but then Spock was being presented with the mission briefing in its pure thought form. Probing the tendrils of thought emanating from the others present, Spock pulled them in towards him and merged them. As one, the bridge crew's minds soaked in the information.

But something was wrong. The First Officer could feel it, feel Kirk's attention slipping, his focus wandering and suddenly there was an image of the Captain, trousers at his knees and head slammed back against a wall as some dark-haired cadet sucked him eagerly. A jolt shook their collective conscious, and instantly it was Kirk, naked this time, panting as he made intense love to a woman writhing in ecstasy. It wasn't just the sight, though that struck them: the sound, the touch, the _feelings_ of heat and pleasure and desire infiltrating their own. Spock tried to stem the flow but the absolute horniness that was building between each and every person made it almost impossible to focus, and every second more and more memories came bursting to the forefront of their minds. The Captain being fucked, fucking, sucked, sucking, teasing and touching, in every compromising position they'd ever heard of and quite a few they hadn't.

_A waiter's uniform flung to the floor – expanses of silken skin – how many girls was that? – a hot tongue running over sensitive flesh – limbs entangled with sheets, rocking fiercely as Kirk and Unnamed Conquest fucked like there was no tomorrow - _

But it was worse. His control was slipping, Spock could feel his grasp on the mindfield waning, and before he could stop it broke his grip and spread, engulfing every mind on the ship. The wild, raging lust exploded hundredfold as each person was drawn in, their senses overloading with the Captain's encounters. Still the memories flew thick and fast – did this man's sluttery know no bounds? – and it was like the most incredible interactive space-porno anyone of them had ever seen. With a final wrench of effort, Spock pushed as hard as he could and the link shattered. Suddenly everyone was back in the room, sharply lucid, breathing like they'd just run a mile and violently turned on.

A number of ensigns had come at some point, it seemed: dotted around the bridge in quivering piles of mortified afterglow. Chekov had suffered the same fate and was now curled up on the floor in post-coital humiliation, his face hidden but his ears as red as tomatoes.

Only Kirk stood supremely unaffected in the centre of the room, shamelessly sporting a massive erection and a gleeful grin.

"I just telepathically did the entire crew?"

"It would appear so, Captain." said Spock with some difficulty.

Kirk looked like Christmas had arrived, wrapped up in all his birthdays and delivered by naked women.

Scotty, indomitably pragmatic and cheerful ("No point in going for a cold shower 'til the queue dies down,"), had taken over the con after the ensign who had been manning the post had run straight into the Turbolift and closed the doors. No-one really wanted to pursue that line of thought. Bones joined the engineer at the panel, managing to look incredibly uncomfortable, incredibly angry, incredibly incredulous and incredibly turned on all at once.

"Reports coming in from all over the ship, Jim. Half of the crew have just jizzed in their pants and they want a ruddy explanation!"

"Tell them I was glad to be of service."

Bones wanted to throttle him.

There _were_ things more awkward than to be standing in a room of your closest friends and colleagues, each of you sporting clear physical indicators of impressive arousal or having just come in public, all at the mental mindfuck of your cocky captain. And if someone could tell Bones what those things were, he'd be extremely grateful.

McCoy cleared his throat. "Well." No-one really responded: some were hunched over their desks, some stared determinedly at the wall; Sulu had his eyes tight shut and was muttering furiously, silently, to himself. The Doctor suspected the picturing-Granny-naked treatment.

"I, er." Damnit, what did you even _say_ in situations like this? "I suppose you can now add making someone come with thought alone to your repartee." A horrible thought then struck him. "I mean, this is the first time it's happened, right?"

Kirk rubbed his chin nonchalantly. "It's not, actually."

McCoy opened his mouth but on second thoughts, closed it again without saying a word. Now was not the time.

Kirk sat back down in his chair to watch the varying degrees of chaos across the ship on the view screen's video capture and almost laughed out loud in glee. How he loved this ship.

"Ladies and gentlemen: it's been a pleasure."


End file.
